


The Other Woman

by ThePeetaBread



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:38:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4658103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePeetaBread/pseuds/ThePeetaBread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca comes to realise upsetting Chloe and receiving angry phone calls from Aubrey at horrendous hours of the night are inextricably intertwined.<br/></p>
<p>Canon divergent PP2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Woman

 

Chloe Beale, for all her quirks and impossibilities, is rarely jealous.

Beca knows this and she knows it well; Chloe has never really had any sort of concept of boundaries or personal space or when exactly it is appropriate to wander naked into a stranger’s shower.

(‘Never, Chloe’ Beca, had stressed vehemently, ‘ _Never_ ’)

As such, Chloe is a natural flirt. She winks at the pizza delivery boy every now and then, shamelessly over-compliments their waitresses and had even once accidentally talked her way into a threesome with a couple from her Sociology class.

In fact, it wasn’t an uncommon experience for Chloe to get asked out right in _front of her,_ sometimes when they’re blatantly in the middle of a date. The white flare of jealousy that jolts through her stomach every time it happens is only softened by Chloe’s polite, but firm refusal and the gentle squeeze of their entwined fingers. Beca’s dry suggestion that maybe Chloe should stop touching random people they’ve just met unnecessarily is generally met with a raised eyebrow and a blank stare.

(Chloe’s counter suggestion that maybe Beca should stop calling her dude if she wants people to know they’re a couple goes largely ignored)

As it is, Beca has grown fairly used to people hitting on her girlfriend.

She doesn’t like it, in fact she absolutely _hates_ it, but there isn’t a whole lot she can do about it. She knows Chloe doesn’t do it to hurt her or make her jealous on purpose, it’s just incidental Chloe stuff that comes with having a girlfriend with zero boundaries.

And so instead of picking a fight about it every time it happens, Beca takes a deep breath, counts backwards from ten and thinks about anything but punching whatever douchebag it is who has tried his luck this week. Most of the time, it works, and as such Beca doesn’t let something so stupid as a little bit of jealousy get in the way of their almost four year relationship.

Except for once the tables have turned and Chloe is most definitely jealous now, and Beca can’t help but feel as if it’s a little unfair.

Cheeks still tinged a little pink from her mortifying first encounter with DSM, Beca trudges through the crowd, eyes tracking the distant flicker of red hair making its way so quickly to the exit.

“Chloe!” Beca calls, slamming chest first into large display cabinet. With an angry gasp, she ignores the immediate burst of pain and pushes forward, “Would you slow down?”

“Chloe,” Beca groans, as Chloe pushes ahead in front of her, decidedly miffed, “Stop,”

Chloe does just that, suddenly stop and swivel around, and Beca crashes straight into her, almost losing her footing. She’s held upright by Chloe, grasping onto either side of her upper arms, glare plastered to her face.

“You know it’s bad enough you were blatantly flirting with someone else in front of me,” Chloe says hotly, “But our main competition, Beca? Really?”

Beca furrows her eyebrows, a little confused.

“Worlds is our last chance to save the Bellas, Beca!” Chloe says angrily, “We can’t win if you’re too busy drooling all over the competition”

“You’re getting angry with me for flirting?” Beca says, disbelievingly, “Seriously?”

Chloe crosses her arms, her look defiant.

“Yesterday I sent you to Starbucks to get coffee and you came back with three different phone numbers”

“That’s different” Chloe says immediately and Beca’s stare is incredulous, “ _How_?”

“It just is,”

“Why? Because you’re allowed to find other people attractive and I’m not?”

“So you are attracted to her then?” Chloe says, sounding upset.

Beca huffs, because there’s no real way she can answer that question without Chloe getting even angrier at her and purses her lips.

“No? Maybe? I don’t know—“ Is the best she can offer under Chloe’s narrowed gaze, palms starting to sweat.

Predictably, this angers Chloe even further.

“You know what, I think I’ll find my own way back to the house,” Chloe says furiously, jaw clenching.

“Fine!” Beca says coolly, “Do what whatever you want,”

“Fine!” Chloe snipes back as she storms out. Beca watches her walk away, a mixture of annoyance and confusion simmering gently in the pit of her stomach.

She feels a hand on her shoulder and turns to see the entire ensemble of Bellas behind her, face falling.

“How much of that did you hear?” She asks with a groan, and Stacie looks at her knowingly, “Most of it”

Legacy eyes her warily.

“Um, Beca if it helps that was the worst flirting I’ve ever seen” Fat Amy says seriously, “If you want I can go and tell Chloe you’re definitely not pulling any chicks with lines like that”

“Don’t think it’ll help, Amy,” Beca mumbles, watching as Chloe slams through the crowd angrily, “But thanks”

Chloe was blowing this way out of proportion, Beca thought, chewing at her bottom lip. She’d get over it soon enough.

 

* * *

 

Chloe, however,  does not get over it quickly as Beca first thought.

The first night she spends back in her own bed is out of pure stubbornness; Chloe is overreacting, Beca decides, and maybe when she calms down she’ll see it for herself.

But a second night passes and then a third, and on the night of the forth, after Chloe has gone almost three solid days of ignoring her, Beca wonders if maybe she should just suck it up and apologize. Even if Chloe is being kind of a giant hypocrite.

Ultimately, after Beca tosses and turns and tries to suck up her pride and apologize, it isn’t her the makes the decision at all, but a three a.m. phone call from an angry Aubrey Posen.

Phone buzzing loudly on her nightstand, Beca rolls over with bleary eyes and a grumble and groans as she sees the name on her caller ID. Her first thought is to ignore the call and let her voice mail deal with Aubrey. Her second thought that might only just anger Aubrey further. With a half-hearted grunt, she rolls onto her side and accepts the call.

“What is wrong with you?” Is the shrill reception she receives and Beca winces into the darkness, still half-asleep, brain muddled.

“ _Aubrey_ ,” Beca croaks out, her voice thick, “Do you _know_ what time it is?”

“I just got off the phone with Chloe,” Aubrey ignores her, voice tight, “She told me there’s another woman,”

Beca just rolls her eyes because her girlfriend is absurd sometimes, but this really is setting a new standard.

“There’s no other woman,” She says, exasperated, running a hand through her hair, “I got a little tongue-tied around one of the DSM members— that’s all”

“DSM?” Aubrey picks up immediately and Beca huffs, rubbing at her eyes, “As in a team you’re in direct competition with?”

“Just one of the teams we have to beat at worlds”

Aubrey lets out a gasp so loud Beca almost drops her phone.

“You mean you’re telling me you want to sleep with someone on the _opposite team_?” Aubrey says, her voice shrill again.

“ _No_ ,” Beca says, starting to become annoyed, “I thought she was attractive, that’s all”

“Oh, so Chloe’s making it all up then, is she?” Aubrey asks curtly.

“Chloe is _overreacting_ —“Beca says insistently, throwing her hands up in frustration.

“So you didn’t call her physically flawless and stare at her chest the whole time?”

“Chloe told you that?” Beca asks, a blush creeping up her neck.

“From what I could make out,” Aubrey snaps, “It was hard to tell because she was crying so much”

The line is painfully silent for a moment. “She was crying?” Beca says finally, a little softer, her stomach dropping rather unpleasantly.

Aubrey lets out a pained sigh, like Beca is the biggest imbecile on the planet, and in that moment Beca really feels like she is. She clutches at the phone tightly, and waits for Aubrey’s response.

“She was really upset, Beca,” Aubrey says, a little calmer and Beca frowns.

She knew Chloe was pissed at her, sure, if the silent treatment was any indication. But she didn’t think she’d upset her so much she would call Aubrey crying at three in the morning. Beca’s stomach drops again at the thought of Chloe crying alone in her room because of something she had done. She suddenly feels restless.

Aubrey seems to sense her shift in mood.

“Just go to her now, tell her you’re sorry and you love her,” Aubrey continues slowly, her voice a little more empathetic, “It’s not unfixable”

“Okay,” Beca mumbles, suddenly feeling ashamed, “I— okay, I can do that”

The line is silent again, as if Aubrey is taken by surprise at Beca being so agreeable. She recovers in time to interject a final order.

“Oh, and Beca,” She says, “You two _really_ need to talk about graduation”

And she hangs up, leaving Beca wide awake and staring into darkness.

All it takes is a few seconds of Beca gnawing at her bottom lip before she’s swinging her legs off the side of the bed, and reaching for her phone.

The floorboards by the staircase creak, and so Beca moves as quietly as she can, past Stacie and Lilly’s room and onto the second floor, until she can see the pink butterflies taped to Chloe’s door and she stops in front of it, hand poised above the doorknob.

She turns her phone light off and scratches her head awkwardly, side eyeing the door. After a brief moment of contemplating whether or not she should go inside, she leans closer, until her ear is pressed to the side of the door and listens for any sign of movement. If Chloe is still crying, she’s doing it quietly – Beca doesn’t think enough time has passed for Chloe to fall asleep just yet.

With another brief moment of hesitation, Beca grasps at the door handle, and pushes it open. It’s dark, and Beca’s eyes take a moment to adjust. There’s a Chloe sized lump in the middle of the bed, wrapped tightly in the sheets and surrounded by those tiny purple throw pillows Beca hates so much.

Chloe doesn’t move, but Beca knows she’s awake because she’s not doing that hiccup-double breath thing she does when she’s asleep and Beca’s suddenly hyper-aware that she’s standing in the doorway like a creeper.

She takes a careful step, with bated breath like Chloe may kick her out at any second, and then another, until she’s at the foot of the bed, hands pressed to Chloe’s comforter.

“Chlo?” She whispers unsurely, “Are you awake?”

Chloe, as expected, doesn’t respond and so Beca bites down on the inside of her cheek and eyes the spot next to her. She closes her eyes and curses inwardly, before moving forward and clambering up onto Chloe’s bed. If Chloe wasn’t awake before, she definitely is now – Beca has never exactly been one for stealth and the multitudes of throw pillows in her way aren’t helping. By the time she reaches Chloe she’s almost certain no one could have slept through the small earthquake she just incited, only Chloe lays still, eyes pressed tightly shut.

Chloe, Beca concludes with a huff, is either really upset or really stubborn – and she’s not sure which is worse.

She drops down, until she’s close enough to Chloe to smell her shampoo, and settles on her side. She feels beyond awkward, more so than usual, and weighs up the pros and cons of wrapping her arm around Chloe’s waist.

She hesitates for only a moment before she leans forward and presses her lips to Chloe’s cheek.

Chloe _has_ been crying, if the taste of salt on Beca’s lips is any indication and it makes her feel sick, because the only thing worse than fighting with Chloe was hurting Chloe, or having Chloe hurt because of her. She pulls back slowly, unsure of how hard she should push to get Chloe to listen to her.

Beca isn’t good at this sort of thing— the comforting people thing. In fact, if there was a contender for things Beca was terrible at, comforting people would probably be the highest on the list. But Chloe isn’t people, she’s _Chloe_ , and so Beca has to try.

She inhales a shaky breath and rests her hand on Chloe’s hip. She opens her mouth to speak but her mind draws a blank, and she stares into the darkness searchingly. Maybe she should just do what Aubrey told her to do and apologize, even if Chloe is blowing this completely out of proportion. Or maybe she should call Chloe out, tell her she’s knows she’s awake so they can have a proper discussion. But it’s three a.m. and Beca’s eyes are heavy and more than anything she just wants Chloe to be okay again. She presses herself ever so gingerly against Chloe’s side and catches Chloe’s fingers between her own.

“I love you,” She whispers it so fast she’s not even sure Chloe heard it. She swallows hard, words caught in her throat, “And— I’m sorry,”

Chloe doesn’t say anything, but her fingers tighten in Beca’s hand and she takes it to mean she’s forgiven.

 

* * *

 

Chloe, it seems, doesn’t want to talk about it.

When Beca wakes in the morning, Chloe is pressing hungry kisses down her sternum and Beca honestly forgets anything was wrong at all for a blissful half hour. By the time Beca remembers just what it was they needed to talk about, Chloe is long gone.

Chloe has kind of a knack for avoiding conversations she doesn’t want to have which means the conversation they both desperately _need_ to have will be nearing impossibility.

And so, they just go about their regular lives as if nothing happened.

For Beca, it isn’t too hard; she’s kind of an expert at avoiding emotions at any and all cost and so she buries herself in her midterms and work at the record label and pretends like everything is peachy.

Except everything is certainly _not peachy_ , and it’s getter harder and harder to ignore.

Bellas practice is an absolute travesty; Chloe wants bigger and better and so each session is dedicated to ridiculous things like juggling or gymnastics and fire eating. When they aren’t learning circus tricks, Chloe has them running, or choreographing, or impromptu singing to catch which one of them is off key.

It’s only after Beca comes home to Legacy almost passing out after an ordered thirteen mile run that she realizes just how serious this has become.

Only she hasn’t a clue what to do about it.

Snoop Dog is in a session, and she can’t technically leave until everybody else does and so she sits by herself in the empty office, twirling herself in Dax’s swivel chair.

As always, when her mind is unoccupied, her thoughts drift to Chloe. With a sigh, she flicks a paperclip across the desk.

Aubrey was right, they need to talk about graduation.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed Chloe was flunking Russian Lit on purpose to stay in the Bellas, only that she wasn’t quite sure how to breach the subject.

There was a part of her, a small, selfish part that was relieved each semester Chloe would come home with a sheepish grin and a fail grade because it meant Chloe wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Beca thinks that part of her has ruled the roost for far too long.

Part of the reason she hadn’t told Chloe about the internship in the first place was because they still haven’t had the _after graduation talk_ Beca is so terrified to bring up. Because Beca’s going to LA, and what if Chloe doesn’t want to come with her? Beca can’t imagine not being as close to Chloe as she is now, no matter how hard she tries.

With a final swivel, she decides she’s going to talk to Chloe about graduating. Tonight. Her stomach lurches but she ignores it. She’s going to do it as soon as Snoop Dog wraps up his session. Which, as it turns out, wouldn’t be anytime soon.

_Reggie_ is in charge of the dinner run, and by the time Beca even realizes she’s going to miss Bellas practice, it’s too late to do anything about it.

She has twelve missed calls, ten of them from Chloe, and if her text messages from Stacie and Fat Amy are any indication, she shouldn’t come home unless she’s ready to grovel.

She sweats profusely the entire way home, racking her brain for an excuse that doesn’t sound as made up as it will most certainly be. She flicks a quick text to Jesse, pleading with him to be her alibi, and drums her fingers on the steering wheel, wondering if it’d just be easier if she scaled the drainpipe into her bedroom.

Deciding against it with a resigned sigh, she pulls into the driveway and eyes the front door. She’s going to get yelled at either way, she may as well get it over with now.

The house is silent when she arrives, and Beca can hear the beat of her heart in her ears and she shuts the door, and cranes her neck around the corner.

Legacy catches sight of her, and with wide eyes, she scampers up the staircase like a frightened baby deer. She catches Jessica and Ashley peering down at her from the top of the second floor, and gulps, pushing back the urge to flee right out of the front door.

She moves through the living room, moving as slowly and quietly as she can, until finally she finds Chloe, sitting alone in the kitchen, frighteningly still.

Chloe’s cheeks are almost as red as her hair, and she looks at Beca with a quiet fury that blazes from the pink tips of her ears to the steady blue of her eyes.

“Chloe,” Beca starts carefully, dropping her bag to the floor, “I am so sorry I missed practice; I can explain—“

“Don’t apologize to me,” Chloe says, her voice clipped, “You should apologize to them for wasting their time” She gestures upstairs, to where Beca knows every single one of the Bella girls are listening raptly.

“Chloe—“ Beca says, moving closer, and she reaches for Chloe’s hand. It seems to set off some sort of chain reaction, because Chloe jerks up out of her seat— and Beca’s reach, and looks at her hotly.

“Worlds is less than five weeks away,” Chloe interrupts, “You should keep that in mind the next time you decide to blow off practice”

And before Beca can get another word in, Chloe pushes past her and up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

The longer Chloe stays mad at her, Beca discovers, the more phone calls from Aubrey she receives.

When she wakes after a miserable night of tossing and turning, she has three messages from Aubrey which can only aptly be described as death threats, and a final one with an order to call her back when she wakes up.

Beca doesn’t feel like being screamed at and so she deletes Aubrey’s messages and heads to class. She’ll apologize to Chloe later, she figures, after Chloe has had enough time to calm down and she’s had enough time to formulate a plausible excuse. And then they could talk about graduation.

If Beca thought Chloe was good at avoiding conversations she didn’t want to have, she’s ever better at avoiding people she doesn’t want to see.

When Beca gets home that night, Chloe has gone to some freshman’s party without her. When she wakes up the next morning, Chloe has already left for class.

It’s infuriating, but short of Beca stalking Chloe’s classes and inciting a fight in the middle of a lecture theatre, she isn’t sure what she can do. Chloe continues in this fashion for most of the week; leaving for class before Beca can wake and partying long after she’s asleep.

Chloe doesn’t even really talk to her at rehearsals anymore, mostly just barks orders at everyone and gets quietly angry when one of them messes up the choreography.

And as if her life wasn’t as stressful enough as it is, what with the Bellas about to be forever dissolved and her girlfriend ignoring her and all, her boss totally hates her mixes.

Which is fine, or whatever, because it isn’t as if her entire life dreams hinge on the fact that her mixes are supposed to be good.

But hey, everyone seems to like the way she makes their coffee so at least she has that to fall back on.

Tears well up in her eyes on the drive home, and no matter how many times she tells herself to stop being a baby, they spill over anyway, totally messing up her eyeliner, and leaving dark streaks all down her cheeks.

When she gets home, there’s a mysterious invitation at the door and so she wipes her tears on her shirtsleeves and shelves her existential crisis for another day.

“There was an invitation at the door,” She yells out to whoever’s home, voice thick, “It looks like some singing thing,”

Legacy pops through the door almost immediately and Beca yelps, dropping the invitation to the floor, startled.

“We get to sing?” She asks excitedly.

Beca glares at her, and places a hand over her chest to calm her racing heart.

Legacy sobers suddenly, straightening her back and looking at Beca carefully, “Hey, have you been crying?”

“ _No_ ,” Beca says quickly, wiping at her smudged cheeks, “It’s just cold out,”

Legacy looks skeptical but Beca doesn’t give her any more time to think about it. She thrusts the invitation into her hands with an instruction to tell the rest of the Bellas and rushes upstairs to fix her make-up.

 

* * *

 

Legacy fist-pumps the entire way over, which would be annoying, had Beca been present enough to care. She can’t stop thinking about her mixes, about how she was supposed to come up with something that wasn’t a mash-up and make it great, despite having done nothing but mash-ups all her life.

Fat Amy and Cynthia-Rose have started taking turns at guessing what the invitation is for- most of them borderline insane- and it’s starting to give Beca a headache. She rubs at her jaw and falls to the back of the group, shoving her hands into her pockets until they’ve reached their destination – a large house not far from campus.

Chloe has decided to speak to her tonight, which would be great, except for the most part she’s speaking in snide comments and subtle digs, and Beca’s patience with her is starting to wear thin.

She’s already painfully aware she’s as bad a DJ as she is a girlfriend. She’s very nearly on the verge of an anxiety attack as it is without Chloe and her back-handed comments about how terribly she’s failing as the Bella’s captain as well.

They’re led in to a room full of Acapella groups and Beca’s heart sinks as she catches sight of DSM. In front of her, Chloe visibly stills.

Beca suddenly feels a little faint, because Kommissar has spotted them, and suddenly she’s gesturing to one of her co-members, and strutting over, hands on her hips.

“Tiny Maus,” She says, with a curl of her lips, “So good to see you again,”

Beca desperately tries to form a coherent response, but with Kommissar towering over her and Chloe tensed at her side, all she can do is stand there blinking. Kommissar’s smile widens.

“So, have you abandoned your foolish plans to face us at the Worlds?” She cocks her head to the side, eyebrow raised and Beca splutters, words tumbling out of her mouth before she can think them through.

“You wish you— gorgeous specimen—“At this, Chloe turns to look sharply at her. Beca’s mouth snaps shut before she can further incriminate herself.

Kommissar’s eyes bore into her own, and Beca tries to hold her gaze without looking down at the curve of her lips.

“Then I will look forward to destroying you,” Kommissar says, looking almost amused. Beca bites down on her tongue, and tries to regain control of her twitching fingers and unstoppable blinking. Before she can formulate a response that won’t get her in trouble, Kommissar is leaning forward, until she’s close enough Beca can feel her breath on her cheek.

“Good luck, tonight,” Kommissar says quietly, the ghost of a smirk on her lips, “From what I have seen you will need it,”

And with one final appraising look, she turns to stalk away, snapping her fingers for Pieter to follow.

Beca suddenly fills with dread and squints out of the corner of her eye to gauge Chloe’s reaction. Chloe’s jaw is tight, her eyes locked in a death glare focused on Kommissar’s retreating figure. If Chloe was mad at her before, Beca thinks she’s made it ten times worse.

“Aca-awkward,” Fat Amy murmurs as she glances between Beca and Chloe, and Beca turns to glare at her so hard she falls silent. Chloe clears her throat, turning around to face them with a look of false confidence on her face. Her sudden smile looks as fake as it does painful, and Beca looks at her warily.

“We’ve got this, Bellas,” Chloe says, a little too cheerfully, “All we need to do is work as a team,”

Beca finds her eyes drifting from Chloe to the team in a huddle behind her; a flash of blonde hair has her stomach flip. Kommissar isn’t looking at her and Beca’s glad. She isn’t sure she can keep it together if Kommissar tries to talk to her again.

“Beca,” Chloe says disparagingly, pulling Beca from her reverie, “If you think you can tear your eyes away long enough, the rest of us would really appreciate you joining the circle”

Beca grinds her teeth together, but holds her tongue, and trudges towards the circle, squeezing in between Ashley and Jessica.

“Alright, this is our first step to winning worlds,” Chloe says commandingly, “We need to show those DSM bitches what we’re made of— losing is not an option, do you understand?”

Beca frowns, but Chloe’s glare looks like it could cut through glass so she doesn’t interject.

“Emily— follow our lead. Remember to pick songs we’re all familiar with,” Chloe says and Legacy nods furiously.

“Amy— Carrie Underwood does not count as 90s hip hop” She says with a glare, as Amy shrugs, “And neither does Justin Timberlake”

“Stacie– do _not_ take your bra off mid-song. It got us disqualified last time,” Stacie looks affronted, and Beca almost laughs, when Chloe is suddenly rounding on her.

“And Beca, try to keep your hands out of your pants when it’s DSM’s turn”

She turns on her heel, leading them forward to where the other groups are gathering and Beca stands, stunned, because passive-aggressive Chloe is not like anything she’s ever encountered before and she’s entirely sure she doesn’t like it.

Annoyance swelling, she pushes it back and focuses on the riff-off.

-

Legacy’s original song mostly impresses Beca, despite the fact they lose because of it, and she makes a note to talk to her about it later. Her primary concern at this very moment, however, is making sure Legacy is still alive long enough to have that conversation.

“We’ll get them next time, Chlo,” Stacie says, arm around Chloe’s shoulder, “They won’t know what hit ‘em,”

Chloe is unconvinced, if the scowl on her face is anything to go by, and she looks as if she might lunge at Legacy at any second. Eagar to avoid a scene, Beca carefully steps in front of her, eyes locked on Chloe.

“Yeah, the more they’re underestimating us, the harder we’ll hit them at worlds,” Cynthia-Rose chimes in, comforting hand on Chloe’s arm, “And we’re gonna _kill it_!”

“Totally!” Beca chirps in, in a fruitless attempt to be helpful. Chloe looks up at her, as if just remembering she’s there and her eyes, if possible, darken.

“That is if Beca can stop drooling long enough to actually sing,“ Chloe snipes, eyes suddenly honed in on Beca’s and it’s so out of left field that Beca is left momentarily stunned. The Bellas shift uncomfortably around them and Beca feels her chest flare in anger.

“Dude, would you just cool it with the insecurity?” She snaps suddenly, what little patience she had fizzling out, “For like, one night?”

Stacie’s mouth drops open and Legacy’s eyes go wide; Chloe doesn’t break her gaze, but flexes the muscle in her jaw as if she’s seconds away from a retort.

Beca doesn’t give her time to respond, however, instead angrily shoves her way through Chloe and Stacie and walks as fast as she can to any corner of the room Chloe’s not in. She settles on grabbing a cup of beer and sloshes in down in seconds, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Eyes hazy with angry tears, she fights them back as she catches Legacy approaching slowly, and swallows painfully.

“Beca, are you alright?”

Beca thinks Legacy’s sweet, she really does, but right now when she’s so close to bursting into tears in front of everyone, the question isn’t welcome.

“I’m fine,” She manages to answer in what comes out in a pair of angry huffs, “You should go back to the group,”

Beca hopes Legacy will take the hint because she’s not in the mood to further sugar-coat she wants to be alone. Instead, Legacy takes a step forward and rests a gentle hand on Beca’s arm. Beca jumps back like she’s been burned.

An eruption of laughter sounds from a corner of the room where the trebles have gathered and suddenly Beca feels so miserable she feels tears threatening to spill from the corner of her eyes. With a quick intake of breath, she holds them back masterfully, and instead redirects all her energy into eyeballing Legacy.

“Go back to the group, Emily!” She barks, and Legacy looks so taken aback she almost feels bad.

“Oh— I just thought— that maybe you’d want to talk?”

“Well, I don’t, so please just leave me alone,” Beca says insistently and she’s well aware she sounds like a complete asshole but she’s far past caring.

Legacy nods, eyes wide and scuttles off to re-join Amy and Stacie, shooting a wounded stare back over her shoulder. Being mean to Legacy kind of feels like kicking a baby seal and so Beca takes a large swig of beer to settle the guilt churning in her stomach.

Kommissar is dancing, and Beca lets her eyes wander from the taut muscle of her biceps to the curve of her hips in her leather pants. She can feel the thrum of the alcohol taking over, and is halfway on her way to approach Kommissar and insult her for real this time when she catches sight of Legacy out of the corner of her eye. She looks dejected, standing in the corner by herself as the rest of the party rages on and the overwhelming guilt that suddenly encompasses Beca is sobering.

Maybe she should go over to Legacy and apologize. But when Jesse comes and finds her, tipsy and shouting ‘dance party’ at the top of his lungs, she figures she’ll just get so drunk she forgets about it instead.

 

* * *

 

Beca wakes in the morning with a headache and five missed calls from Aubrey.

Memories of the night before come flooding back to her; Kommissar, fighting with Chloe, having to help Jesse lug a blitzed Benji all the way back to their frat house. With a groan, she pulls her covers over her head and closes her eyes tightly. With any luck, she would go back to sleep and wake up never.

When her phone buzzes again, she hesitates for only a moment, before accepting the call, and holding it up to her ear. “Again?” Aubrey hisses, and Beca winces, hand to her throbbing head, “Seriously, Beca? Again?”

Aubrey starts talking so quickly Beca can barely make out the gist of what she’s saying but she keeps picking up on ‘Chloe’ and ‘midnight’ and ‘crying’ and suddenly Beca feels sick at the thought of Chloe crying herself to sleep _again_ while Beca was out getting drunk like some asshole.

After almost a full three minutes of ranting, Aubrey slows down with an angry huff, and Beca takes the chance to cut her off.

“Is she okay?” She asks meekly, and Aubrey sighs.

“Listen to me and listen hard, Mitchell,” Aubrey says lowly, “You are going to pull yourself together, find Chloe and tell her _you’re a buffoon_ and this Swedish woman doesn’t even hold a candle to her—“

“German,” Beca mumbles and she can almost feel the glare Aubrey is sending her through the phone.

“I don’t care!” Aubrey hisses, “This has gone on long enough, Beca,”

Beca privately agrees. She chooses not to disclose this fact to Aubrey, however.

“I’ll talk to her,” Beca says, “I promise,”

Aubrey hangs up on her, and Beca wishes she was still drunk.

 

* * *

 

When Beca finally musters the courage to roll out of bed and find Chloe, she finds the rest of the house in a state of panic, suitcases, gym bags and rogue articles of clothing flying everywhere.

Chloe is at the center of it all, doing that weird steady-eyed glare thing she does when she’s determined to do something and shoveling gym clothes into her suitcase.

Apparently, they’re going on a retreat and Beca gets no say in the matter.

“You should pack,” Chloe cuts her off when Beca tries to protest, “The bus is leaving at one, and everyone is going to be on it,”

And she shoos Beca out with a flick of her wrist.

 

* * *

 

Beca’s never exactly been on a group retreat before, but her expectations were somewhat dim; when they get there, at some lakeside campsite in the middle of nowhere, she expects a bunch of middle-aged park rangers to suddenly pop out and escort them to a bunch of wooden cabins. What she doesn’t expect, is a bright-eyed Aubrey Posen, standing in wait for them with her hands on her hips.

And while the rest of the Bellas greet her with high-pitched squeals and giant hugs, Beca hangs back, her headache suddenly amplifying.

They’ve barely had time to say hello before Aubrey is barking orders; Amy is to help Chloe pitch the tent, Stacie and Cynthia Rose are to unload the bags and Jessica and Ashley are to move the van.

Beca’s order is to stay by the lake and out of the way, which seems less than productive until Beca realises the fact that she is cornered under the reddened hue of Aubrey’s wrath is hardly accidental.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Aubrey asks pointedly, and Beca shakes her head, somewhat regretfully.

“Beca, you said you would!”

“It’s only been five hours,” Beca says with a grumble, “When I tried to talk to her this morning she blew me off because she had to pack. I’ll do it later,”

Aubrey looks entirely too frustrated with her.

“Beca, the longer you wait the more you upset her—“

“I said I’ll do it, Aubrey!” Beca says forcefully, “There hasn’t been a good time—“

“Great,” Aubrey says, pointing in Chloe’s direction, “Now’s your chance,”

Chloe and Fat Amy are trying to set up the tent, and they look to be far enough away from each other that Beca may be able to coax Chloe into some form of conversation.

Aubrey looks at her expectantly; Beca rolls her eyes. Her head is sort of pounding and Aubrey’s nagging isn’t exactly a great help so she takes the first opportunity to get away from her as quickly as possible. She’d take an angry girlfriend over an angry Aubrey Posen any day.

Another grumble, and Beca dawdles over to Chloe, biting at the inside of her cheek.

“Chlo,” Beca says softly, “Can we talk?”

Chloe looks up, expression darkening when she sees Beca standing in front of her.

“This isn’t a great time, Beca,” Chloe says shortly, tent pegs in hand, “If this doesn’t go up before it gets dark we have nowhere to sleep tonight”

Beca thinks that might be entirely probable, seeing as so far Chloe seems to have pegged the tent in upside down. Fat Amy’s contribution seems so far to be taking a nap across the canvas.

“We really need to talk,” Beca pushes uneasily, “Maybe Amy could do the rest—“

“I said not now,” Chloe says bitingly, and Beca flinches.

With a sigh, she turns and trudges mournfully back to Aubrey.

“Well?” Aubrey asks expectantly and Beca throws a desperate look over her shoulder to where Chloe has taken to trying to roll Fat Amy off the tent canvas.

“For goodness sake!” Aubrey says, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You are honestly _ridiculous_ ”

“She didn’t exactly make it easy,” Beca says hotly, starting to become defensive, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to start a conversation with someone who clearly doesn’t want to have it—“

“You should have had this conversation _months_ ago, Beca,” Aubrey says, eyes blazing, “Maybe if you took your head out of that damned computer once in a while you’d realise there are other people to consider—“

“You know what, Aubrey?” Beca asks, starting to get angry, “Last time, I checked, this is still _my_ relationship. So thanks, but I don’t need your input anymore,”

Aubrey’s hand snatches at her wrist, but Beca shakes her off, and storms along the lake, ignoring Aubrey’s angry shouts of her name.

She spends the rest of the afternoon ignoring everyone, with her feet in the lake and a scowl on her face.

 

* * *

 

 

Beca has had a lot of crappy days, but this, she thinks as she settles into her corner of the tent, has to be the worst.

Chloe, of course, still won’t talk to her. In fact, judging by the fact she walked off with Aubrey and never came back, she doesn’t even want to sleep in the same tent as her.

Her boss wants her to mix something original, like it’s _that easy_ , and if she doesn’t she’ll go back to just serving people coffee and being called Reggie.

To top that all off, she’s been accidentally groped a total of four times by several different Bella members, _and_ she’s squished between Flo and Fat Amy, both of whom apparently fart in their sleep.

In fact, the only good thing that has come out of this day was telling Aubrey to stick it and not getting strangled. It isn’t much, but it gives her a strange comfort.

That is of course, before she feels herself being yanked out of the tent they’re all sharing, _hard_ , until she’s backed flat into a nearby tree, barely awake and completely bewildered.

“Jesus Christ!” She hisses, wrist locked in an iron tight grip. Eyes bleary, she blinks into the darkness and makes out the silhouette of her attacker, squinting as everything comes into focus. A pair of angry green eyes glare back at her.

“What the fuck, Aubrey?” She groans, her heart racing, “You scared the crap out of me”

“I need to speak to you,” Aubrey says dangerously, and Beca glares back at her, “We already talked about this— you need to let go of me—“

“You remember what I told you when you first starting dating Chloe?” Aubrey interrupts, heatedly. Beca remembers well. Aubrey had knocked on her door, smiled sweetly and threatened to strangle Beca with her own headphones if she ever hurt Chloe.  

“Did you think I was joking?”

“Honestly, the only thing surprising about that threat would be if you _were_ joking because you are quite evidently _psychotic_ —“ Aubrey twists her arm and Beca yelps, “ _Ow_ — Aubrey—“

Eyes ablaze, Aubrey drops her hand and Beca pulls it to her chest immediately, nursing it as it throbs.

“Do you still love her?” Aubrey asks searchingly. 

“Of course I do,” Beca answers with a scowl.

“Then you need to try harder—“

“You don’t think I’ve been trying?” Beca asks angrily, “If she’s not actively ignoring me, then she’s insulting me or freaking out about worlds!”

Aubrey studies her for a moment, messy bedhead, wild eyes and all. Her glare softens.

“Look,” Aubrey says, “I’m not saying you’re completely at fault,” Beca snorts and Aubrey silences her with a glare.

“But Chloe hasn’t been okay for a while now, and she’s certainly not going to make the first move,”

Beca remains uncooperative, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. Aubrey sighs.

“She thinks you’re going to graduate and move on without her,”

“That’s stupid,” Beca says immediately and Aubrey rolls her eyes.

“Not to her”

Beca deflates, leaning backwards onto a nearby tree. She looks up at Aubrey, squinting past the darkness and bites at her bottom lip.

“I’ll try again tomorrow,” She says, dejectedly, and Aubrey straightens.

“Good,” Aubrey tells her, looking pleased, “I’m glad you agree,”

Beca scowls at her again, but Aubrey doesn’t seem to notice, and steps backwards, looking out onto the lake, “Try not to wake the others when you go back in,” She says and with a glint of a smile, she heads back to her cabin.

Beca shakes her head, and crawls back into the tent.

 

* * *

 

Fat Amy (unsurprisingly) is the one to spill the beans on her internship.

Beca’s frustration with this whole stupid bonding session has reached its prime, and so the desire to enact a diva storm out surmounts any obligation she feels she owes Chloe and the rest of the Bellas to stay and continue rolling around in the mud under the guise of “bonding”.

Her karma comes of courses, a mere three seconds later, in the form of bear trap.

“Help me!” She cries, as she grips at the rope, stomach in her throat, “Get me down!”

The panic in her chest is so deafening she barely hears their attempts to get her attention until it’s far too late. Before she’s knows what’s happening she’s sprawled on the ground, Lilly hanging over her with a devilish grin and a carving knife.

Of all the ways to get Chloe to speak to her again, Beca never thought being launched fifteen feet in the air by one of Aubrey’s stupid bear traps would be the way to do it.

She’s fine, of course, as Stacie laments with a roll of her eyes, but Chloe’s hands are on her midsection checking her ribs for bruises and her arm is around Beca’s waist and Beca can’t even remember the last time Chloe was this close to her. And so she doesn’t protest when Chloe insists she wrap an arm around her shoulder and lean on her the entire way back to the tent.

It’s near dark as they walk back, and Amy and Stacie are taking turns impersonating Beca’s bear trap capture with vivid hand gestures and overly exaggerated girlish screams. Usually, Beca would roll her eyes and tell them where to stick it, but instead she’s focused on stealing glances at Chloe out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge her reaction. Chloe’s hand is tight on her waist and she’s quiet, as if contemplating her next move. She’s not as guarded as she had been before, and Beca thinks, with a tiny flare of hope burgeoning in her chest, tonight might be the night Chloe finally talks to her.

Just as she’s about to suggest they go somewhere private, Fat Amy’s hands are on either one of their shoulders, “Campfire aca-bitches!” She yells, shaking them excitedly, “Somebody get the marshmallows!”

Chloe perks up at the prospect of roasted marshmallows and Beca looks over to Aubrey, who is rolling her eyes playfully, “Go on,” She says, “They’re in the cabin. I suppose you’ve earned it,”

Chloe cracks the first genuine smile Beca’s seen from her in weeks.

 

* * *

 

Beca remembers why she shouldn’t eat s’mores halfway into her fourth; she may or may not puke all over Amy but she can’t find it in herself to care much, not when she’s having so much fun. The Bellas are all smiling and laughing; Legacy’s telling what may be the lamest knock-knock jokes on earth, but they have Stacie and Amy howling with laughter and Beca can’t stop the broad smile that sneaks across her face at the sight of it. Aubrey is detailing the steps to a perfect s’more across the fire from Jessica and Ashley, and tutting loudly when they get it wrong. Out of the corner of her eye, Beca catches sight of Chloe, dangling a loose marshmallow over the fire and bites her lip, her smile small.

It isn’t until Aubrey is ushering everybody to bed that Beca finally catches up with her; Chloe is waiting for her, shoulders heavy, like she knows it’s time to have the conversation she’s been so desperately avoiding for so long.

Beca smiles at her and holds out her hand, and Chloe takes it weakly, fingers tangling with Beca’s.

Beca can hear Fat Amy laughing loudly with Cythnia-Rose as they all pile into the tent and she tugs Chloe aside, leading her out to sit at the edge of the lake with a small smile. Beca sits down, heart in her throat, and watches as Chloe does the same, until Chloe’s hand is in her lap and the tips of their knees are pressed together.

Chloe’s eyes are impossibly blue, more so than usual with the dim reflection of the moon on the lake water and Beca can’t help herself. Before she realises what she’s doing, her hand is reaching out and cupping Chloe’s cheek adoringly.

“I love you,” She blurts out without thinking and Chloe presses into her hand, smile shy.

“I love you, too,” Chloe says quietly, her response immediate, and Beca smiles easily.

A moment of silence passes between them, and Beca fiddles with Chloe’s fingers awkwardly.

“So— uh— things have been really sucky lately,” Beca begins hesitantly, dropping her hand from Chloe’s face to run through her own hair.

“Yeah,” Chloe says uncomfortably, “They have,”

Another awkward silence. Beca bites at her bottom lip.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the internship,” She says slowly, “I should have told you sooner,”

It’s the understatement of the century and they both seem to know it; she waits with baited breath as Chloe looks at her, _really_ looks at her, as if Beca is some complex puzzle or equation she’s trying to make sense of.

“Why didn’t you?” Chloe asks, eyebrows creased and Beca lets out a heavy sigh.

“I was going to –- but then that thing at the Kennedy Center happened and you were already stressed enough about worlds and graduation— I thought it would just upset you,”

Chloe stares at her for a moment, and Beca’s entire body tenses because it looks as if Chloe might start yelling. Instead, Chloe drops her hand, and bursts into tears.

More than a little startled, Beca watches taken aback as Chloe’s whole body is overcome with sobs, pressing her hands to her face and curling her knees to her chest.

Punching her crying girlfriend gently on the arm and telling her to sack up seems even to Beca to be the wrong move, so instead, she scoots a little closer and tries her best to be comforting.

“Oh, Chlo,” Beca says awkwardly, reaching a clumsy hand to settle on Chloe’s lower back, “Don’t— don’t do that,”

Chloe lifts her hands away from her face to look at Beca, eyes shimmering with the tears spilling down her cheeks, “I’m a horrible girlfriend,” Chloe says, bottom lip quivering.

“What? No, you’re not,” Beca says immediately, rubbing Chloe’s back gently.

“Yes I am!” Chloe blubbers, “You couldn’t even tell me your dreams were coming true because you thought I’d get angry about it—“

“Hey, no that’s not— that’s not true—“ Beca says, wavering voice betraying her lie. Chloe shoots her a look and Beca purses her lips awkwardly.

“It’s just— I got so freaked out by having to leave you and the Bellas—“

“It was easier to stay,” Beca says softly, and Chloe nods, hand drifting to rest on Beca’s forearm, “God, Beca, I don’t even know what I’m going to do after graduation. The Bellas have been my family for so long the thought of losing them _and_ you at the same time—“

“You’re not losing me,” Beca interrupts, “You never were,”

“Beca, you’ve been so checked out over the last couple of months,” Chloe says, with a hint of frustration, “You were always busy and so distant, I didn’t know what to think,”

Beca feels a pang of guilt, and opens her mouth to interrupt again, only Chloe stops her with a firm squeeze to her arm, “And then that DSM woman came along and everything got so much worse,”

“Chlo, you know she doesn’t mean anything to me, right?” Beca asks, trying to be reassuring and Chloe frowns.

“I know that,” Chloe says quietly, and Beca squeezes her fingers, “I _know_ I was being stupid. I know you love me”

“It’s just—“ Chloe licks her lips, eyes drifting out to gaze across the lake, “The way you _were_ with her— the way you _are_ with her— I’ve never seen you like that with anyone”

Beca furrows her eyebrows, “Like what?” She asks and Chloe pauses.

“I don’t know— all flustered and speechless. I mean, you’re _you_ and you never flirt with _anyone_ , and suddenly this woman comes in and you can’t speak in complete sentences around her— it’s like she takes your breath away or something,“ Chloe looks frustrated, “I’ve never seen you like that with anyone” She says, suddenly vulnerable, “Not even me”

Chloe looks as if she might start to cry again and Beca starts to panic; with a quick glance over her shoulder, she grasps at Chloe’s fingers tightly.

“You—“ She begins hesitantly, mulling over her words with careful contemplation, “You take my breath away every time I look at you,” She’s astutely aware of just how cheesy that sounded and suddenly hyper-aware of just how close the tent full of Bellas really is. As her cheeks burn red, she is incredibly thankful for the cover of darkness.

“Oh, Beca,” Chloe’s voice hitches, tears spilling onto her cheeks and Beca pulls her in protectively, fastening her hands around Chloe’s waist.

“We’ll graduate together,” Beca murmurs into Chloe’s hair, hands pressing securely on Chloe’s back, “And we’ll stay together no matter what okay?

“I’ll be in LA, and you’ll be wherever you need to be and we’ll be just fine”

“I want to come with you,” Chloe says, voice suddenly firm, “To LA. I want to come with you”

“Yeah?” Beca asks, trying to hold back a smile. Chloe nods furiously against her. “Good, cause I-uh, I kind of want that too”

Chloe’s teary smile is suddenly brighter than the reflection of the moon on the lake and Beca is struck by a sudden burning urge to kiss her. Pulling Chloe’s chin up with two fingers, she presses her lips to Chloe’s desperately, hands curling in Chloe’s hair. Chloe kisses back feverishly, hands coiled tightly around Beca’s shirt.

Chloe kisses her again, before leaning into Beca’s neck with a content sigh. Chloe’s breathing is almost in tune with the sounds of the lake water lapping gently at the rocks and Beca hums gently, pressing her lips to the top of Chloe’s head. Chloe’s warm against her side and Beca thinks she could lie here forever; Chloe coiled tightly in her arms, body almost as warm as the summer night, the starry sky as their backdrop.

The pleasant whistling of the wind is suddenly interrupted with the sound of Fat Amy’s voice, slightly muffled, from a few yards over.

“If you two are going to have sex, can you do it a little bit further away from the tent?”

Chloe giggles lightly against her side and Beca’s cheeks burn red for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

The following days after their visit to the Lodge of the Fallen Leaves, Beca feels happier than she has in a long while. Chloe is finally acting like herself again, all smiles and laughter and impromptu musical numbers during breakfast. When Chloe brings up maybe starting a teaching degree at UCLA, voice casual but eyes bright with excitement, Beca smiles so widely her cheeks start to ache.

It’s only after Cynthia-Rose and Stacie simultaneously yell at them to get a room that Beca remembers they’re in a room full of people, and she should probably refrain from jumping Chloe right here and now.

“If I’m not allowed to entertain special friends in communal spaces, neither are you,” Stacie reminds them with a hand on her hip. Fat Amy nods furiously in agreement behind her and Beca rolls her eyes as Chloe offers a thoroughly insincere apology.

Beca looks over to a blushing Legacy and is suddenly hit by the memory of the night of the riff-off, and that fact that she’d barely spoken to Legacy since. She presses a kiss to Chloe’s cheek and rolls of her, following Legacy into the kitchen.

“Hey, Emily, can I talk to you for a second?”

Legacy looks more than a little surprised, but nods her head eagerly, and bounds over to where Beca’s standing.

Beca scratches at the back of her head awkwardly, well aware of the curious look Chloe’s shooting her over Legacy’s shoulder.

“I—uh, I wanted to say sorry. About that night at the riff-off,” Beca says gruffly, “You were just trying to be nice and I was a real dick to you,”

“Oh— that’s okay, Beca—“ Legacy says quickly.

“It’s not okay. So— I’m sorry,”

Legacy nods quickly, looking at her with starry eyes, and Beca shifts her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

“So— uh, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe collaborate on something?”

Legacy beams, and her line of vision on Chloe is disrupted by Legacy launching herself into Beca’s arms excitedly, but Beca’s almost positive she’s smiling too.

 

* * *

 

They make it to Copenhagen with minimal difficulty; Beca is in charge of overseeing Lilly’s suitcase and manages to wrangle no less than seven weapons out of her luggage before TSA can catch a whiff of them.

Legacy only wanders off twice and Stacie doesn’t hook up with anyone mid-air, and so when they finally reach their hotel, Beca, although terribly exhausted and stinking of plane, considers the day a success.

The day of the competition passes quickly, and as Beca races around checking microphones and making sure everybody is in their costumes she fails to notice just how close their assigned space to DSM. Until she turns around and catches sight of Kommissar changing.

As she whirls around and away from the sight, face flushed, she comes face first with her entire team. Great.

“Enjoying the view?” Stacie asks innocently as Cynthia-Rose sniggers behind her hand Beca clears her throat, trying to ignore her burning cheeks.

She looks at Chloe cautiously, ready for the meltdown, but Chloe is smiling lightly at her, like she’s in on the joke, and even though Beca’s clearly the butt of it, a sudden warmth creeps through her chest.

Before she can open her mouth to give the motivational speech they’re clearly all waiting for, Aubrey is suddenly at her side, squeezing herself into the circle, smile bright.

“Hey, guys,” Aubrey says with a sense of urgency, “How did the sound check go? Is everybody wearing a mic? Have you started warming up yet?”

Beca rolls her eyes, because does Aubrey ever just turn it off? Before she can verbalise just that, Chloe puts a hand on Aubrey’s arm, “Don’t worry, Aubrey. Everything is under control”

“Yeah, _almost_ everything” Stacie sniggers, looking at Beca with purpose and Beca feels her cheeks start to heat again as the entire group turn to look at her.

Aubrey narrows her eyes, “What do you mean?” She asks.

“Nothing,” Stacie answers, her grin smug, “Just Beca’s giant toner for that DSM woman”

Aubrey’s head whips around to stare at her, and Beca lets out a groan, glaring at Stacie, “It’s not a big deal,” She grumbles.

Aubrey doesn’t look as amused as the rest of them, hands at her hips.

“You need to get yourself under control, Beca” She says curtly, “This is the _International Championship of Collegiate Acapella,_ not some garage karaoke competition,”

“Everything is _fine_ , Aubrey,” Beca says, “We’re performing in fifteen minutes and after that, I never have to see her again”

Aubrey stares at her for a long moment, “Alright, come on”

“Where are we going?” Beca asks, confused, as Aubrey reaches forward and grasps onto her wrist.

“We’re going to shut down this woman once and for all,” Aubrey says determinedly and tugs her forward through the circle of Bellas. Beca turns to Chloe to plead for help but Chloe just smirks at her, like she’s enjoying this entirely too much and Beca realises the chances of anyone saving her are slim to none. Aubrey pulls her through the crowd of competitors, until they’re close enough Beca can spot the black and mesh and feels her mouth go dry.

She opens her mouth to reiterate to Aubrey just how tall, blonde and scary Kommissar really is but then remembers who she’s with.

“Let me do the talking,” Aubrey instructs, “Whatever you do, do _not_ compliment her, or smile at her, or do that dumb gassy face you do when you’re flirting with someone—“

Beca frowns, opening her mouth to interject, but Aubrey talks right over her, full steam ahead.

“—just stand there and try to look tough, okay?” Aubrey stops suddenly, and looks her up and down. “Or just stand there,” She rephrases, and Beca would be insulted, had she time to interject.

“Alright, which one is she?” Aubrey asks, scanning the crowd and Beca lifts a hand to point in Kommissar’s direction. “The blonde one,” She says, just as Kommissar turns and catches her eye, “That just started looking at us,”

Aubrey must have seen her, because she suddenly goes quiet, hand going limp against Beca’s wrist.

Beca’s stomach flips as she realises Kommissar is coming towards them, and she blinks frantically, trying to remember what Aubrey had just told her.

Do not compliment her. She could do that. All she had to do was just not say anything at all.

Don’t smile at her. Harder, but she could manage. She’d just have to think about something really gross. Like Aubrey vomiting or Bumper and Fat Amy having sex.

As for the apparent dumb gassy face— well— she’d really like to get back to that, right after Aubrey was done laying done the law.

Beca bites the inside of her cheek and repeats them quickly. All she had to do was stay quiet and not make a dick of herself. She could totally do this.

Kommissar sways towards the two of them, eyebrow quirked. She stands in front of the two of them, looking a mix of surprised and most decidedly pleased and curls her lips into a wide smirk. Beca gulps.

“Well, well, well,” Kommissar says, eyes twinkling, “Who _do_ we have here?”

Heart in her throat, Beca stands perfectly still and waits for Aubrey to do the talking. Aubrey had once yelled at the Barden Arts coordinator for cutting the Acapella budget until he cried, Kommissar should be easy pickings for her.

A moment of silence passes between them. Kommissar’s smile widens.

Beca nudges Aubrey, eyebrows furrowing, “Dude, _go_ ,” She murmurs from the corner of her mouth. Kommissar is _very_ close and Beca’s eyes are starting to water from trying not to blink. If Aubrey doesn’t say something soon she knows she’s going to make a fool of herself again.

Beca frowns, starting to become impatient, and looks over to Aubrey with a glare.

Aubrey is just as frozen as she is, mouth agape, and face completely white. She opens her mouth and then closes it again, looking stricken. Beca stares at her incredulously.

Beca snaps her head back to Kommissar, lips pursed and tongue between her teeth. She feels panic start to set in, as the light illuminates the curves of Kommissar’s cheekbones and the steady line of her jaw and bites back the compliment at the tip of her tongue. Her gaze moves to catch Kommissar’s eyes, only, Kommissar isn’t looking at her, instead she is focused on Aubrey. It’s only then that Beca notices the heavy flush making its way from Aubrey’s cheeks down to her neck, and she frowns, taken aback.

“Hello little lion,” Kommissar almost purrs, hand reaching forward to touch the tips of her fingers to Aubrey’s cheek, “Long time no see”

Aubrey jerks away at her touch, cheeks flaming bright red and Beca glances between the two of them, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Kommissar suddenly shifts her gaze, and Beca feels as if all the air has been sucked from the room as Kommissar meets her eyes. Without warning, her gaze softens, and Kommissar smiles brilliantly, as if Beca has just delivered her the most wonderful gift.

Beca’s confusion is starting to settle, and in its place comes a slightly horrifying realisation.

“You two know each other?” Beca asks accusingly, eyes wide as saucers. Aubrey looks as if she might pass out. Or throw up. Or both.

“The Barden Bellas hosted a nationwide acapella singing bowl in 2010” Kommissar says smoothly, when Aubrey shows no sign of giving an answer, “I was at Colombia University on a student exchange. The Bellas were very— welcoming. One little Bella in particular…”

Aubrey makes a weird spluttering sound, as if trying to speak. Kommissar’s smirk widens, and she locks to eyes to Aubrey’s, like a tiger zoning in on its prey. Beca is not much better; mouth half open, eyes flickering so quickly between the two of them she feels as if her head might split open. “Wait, _what?_ ”

Kommissar laughs lowly and Beca’s stomach does that same weird flip it usually only does when Chloe is getting naked for her. Kommissar’s smiling widely at her again, as if this conversation is making her deliriously happy and Beca couldn’t stop her wide-eyed stare if she tried.

A roar of applause suddenly comes from the audience, startling Beca’s whirl of thoughts and suddenly she’s _picturing it_ , Kommissar and those seductive eyes and predatory smile and a young, oblivious Aubrey Posen, who probably didn’t know what was happening until it had already happened.

She’s suddenly struck by the overwhelming urge to burst into hysterical laughter. A giggle bubbles through her lips and both Kommissar and Aubrey turn to stare sharply at her – and for the first time since they met, the seductive twinkle in Kommissar’s eyes and the quirking of a perfect eyebrow _doesn’t_ make her want to melt into the floor. Instead, all she can think of is Aubrey, the same Aubrey who could aptly be described as as a pseudo drill sergeant, speechless and completely out of control and it makes her want to howl with laughter. She resists the urge, instead clamping her hand over her mouth with a snort. Kommissar watches her curiously, “Something funny, tiny maus?” She asks, moving in on her, with those heady eyes _she knows_ turn Beca to a stuttering mess.

Kommissar is closer than she’s ever been before and she smells _so good_ but Beca can’t stop thinking about Aubrey and her incoherent babbling and a wide, amused smile sets itself upon her face. Before she can answer, a voice is calling out to Kommissar, as DSM begin to gather the members of their team.

“I will be back,” Kommissar says smoothly, gaze turning from Beca to Aubrey, “When I have finished wiping the floor with the Barden Bellas,”

Her voice lowers, and she leans in until she’s so close Beca can count the specks of green in her eyes, and flickers her gaze between the two of them, “You can decide between yourselves which one of you will be my prize”

Aubrey is so still, Beca wonders for a second if she’s stopped breathing all together. When Aubrey lets out a tiny, shaky breath, the tips of her ears burning red, Beca turns to Kommissar, amused smile splayed across her face.

“When the Bellas win the championship, I’ll be spending the night celebrating with my _girlfriend_ ” Beca says, looking Kommissar straight in the eye, “But thanks for the offer”

Kommissar blinks, momentarily taken aback before she straightens, composing herself. “Very well,” She says, looking Beca up and down, “I was looking forward to treating myself to you, tiny maus, but no matter, my kleine Löwe is treat enough,” She looks to Aubrey, eyes sultry, and Aubrey’s jaw is clenched so tightly Beca thinks it might just snap off.

The heavy chants of the crowd begin to swell and Beca glances over her shoulder to where DSM is circling, gesturing for Kommissar to join them. She catches sight of Chloe suddenly, deep in conversation with Amy and Stacie and is suddenly overwhelmed by the need to be close to her. Smile forming, she barely notices Kommissar’s exit or the confident sway of her hips, instead gaze locked onto the sight of her girlfriends happy blue eyes.

It’s only when Aubrey lets out a heavy stream of breath that she’s been holding Beca turns to her, grin so wide it hurts her cheeks.

Aubrey stares straight ahead, eyes hardening, “Don’t you dare say a word,” She hisses so furiously Beca almost complies. Almost.

“You and Kommissar?” She says giddily, “You had sex with the leader of DSM?”

She lets out a fake gasp so loud Aubrey almost jumps out of her skin, “You, _Aubrey Posen_ , had sexual relations with a member of a _competing team_?”

“Years ago!” Aubrey says spinning around, face almost purple, “I was barely eighteen – I had been a Bella for less than a month! I had no concept of loyalty and the initiation process was nowhere near as rigorous as the one _I_ implemented—“

“Whatever, you say, _little lion_ ” Beca says and she dodges forward, pre-empting the attack Aubrey is sure to retaliate with.

Aubrey looks as though she may throttle her and so Beca stays out of immediate range, hands raised, “Hey, dude, I’m not judging— honestly, she’s _gorgeous,_ well done to you—“

“Stop talking,” Aubrey orders, blushing furiously, “We are never to speak of this again, do you understand?”

Aubrey’s glare is murderous and Beca knows it won’t take much more teasing before she snaps and so she nods, smile wide.

“And you’re not to tell to anyone—“

“ _That_ I can’t promise,” Beca says gravely, and Aubrey’s turning purple again, the vein to the side of her forehead looking like it’s about to pop.

“If you so much as breathe a _word_ to anyone about this it will be the last sentence you ever _speak_ ,” Aubrey snarls, eyes filled with fire.

Beca sobers a little, because she’s never known a threat from Aubrey to be empty and takes another step back, hands raised.

“Fine. I won’t tell anyone” She says with a roll of her eyes, and Aubrey looks intensely at her.

“Promise me,”

“Sure” Beca sighs.

“I _mean it_ Beca,” Aubrey says fiercely, “ _Nobody_ ” Aubrey’s lips pinch together and Beca honestly wonders how Aubrey can be wound so tight and still not have had aneurysm yet, “I won’t tell anyone”

“Good,” Aubrey says, sounding a marginally less angry than before, “That’s— good”

A moment of silence passes between them and Beca glances at Aubrey, biting her lip, “Are you going to sleep with her again tonight?”

Aubrey’s face turns purple again and Beca seriously fears for her life.

 

* * *

 

They win.

Beca almost doesn’t believe it when it’s announced, but then Fat Amy is roaring in delight and Stacie and Legacy are jumping up and down squealing and every single piece of Beca’s life feels like it’s finally clicking into place. Her boss loved her and Legacy’s collaboration so much he offered her a place at his LA recording studio, Chloe is going with her, and the Bellas would live to sing another year.

Beca thinks euphoria feels a lot like this.

There are bits of confetti in Chloe’s hair and her smile is brighter than Beca’s ever seen it and she looks so _beautiful_ like this, all Beca wants to do is to march over and kiss her senseless.

Chloe must be thinking along the same lines, because she beats her to it, arms tight around Beca’s waist as she takes Beca’s bottom lip tightly between her own.

Jessica and Ashley are lifting the trophy above their heads and the audience are screaming and the lights are brighter than Beca’s ever seen them. She takes in all in with a dazed, but wide smile upon her face, and a happy red-head on her arm.

Beca’s reverie is so encompassing that she barely notices when walks straight off stage and finds herself face-to-face with Kommissar. And instead of the wave of fear, attraction and confusion that usually comes with her encounters with Kommissar, Beca instead wears a triumphant grin and a newfound confidence.

“Well, well, well,” Chloe says, not bothering to mask her delight, “Look who stuck around to take their second place trophy,”

Kommissar’s jaw twitches, but her smile remains perfectly intact. Behind her, Pieter scowls.

“We will destroy you next year,” Kommissar says unblinkingly, “There is no doubt” She smiles suddenly, “However, we could not leave without congratulating our champions, no matter how fleeting the possession of that trophy will be”

The way Pieter is sulking behind her suggests there is little ‘we’ in this equation but she smiles back at Kommissar all the same.

Kommissar’s eyes flicker around the circle of faces behind them before settling on Beca, curiosity splayed across her face.

“Your friend?” Kommissar asks curiously, “She left already?”

“No, she’s still here,” Beca answers with a smile, lifting a hand to point over to where Aubrey is skulking near the DJ booth, very obviously trying to avoid the one woman Beca is quite happily sending her way.

Kommissar looks over, cheshire grin forming at the sight.

“Very good,” She says, sounding pleased. She smiles at Beca again, and then at Chloe, looking much more sated than a second-place victor should, “Congratulations again,” She says, voice lowering, “I look forward to taking that trophy from you next year,”

Her eyes trail down Beca’s body and up again, purposefully, before she pushes past them, line of sight honed in on Aubrey.

Chloe wrinkles her nose, eyes narrowing, “Okay, what was that about?” She asks as Beca squints, pretending not to hear her.

“Oh, hey look!” Beca exclaims hurriedly, pointing over to where Flo and Cynthia-Rose are taking oysters off a nearby buffet, “Food!”

“Beca,” Chloe says, pressing into her until she’s impossibly close, “Tell me”

Chloe’s making that face she knows Beca can’t resist – that pouty-lipped frown and puppy-dog eyes she only ever seems to make when she wants something.

“Sorry Beale,” Beca says, “Aubrey made me promise, and I don’t feel like getting murdered tonight”

She kisses the pout off Chloe’s lips and tugs her closer, lips pressing to the side of Chloe’s cheek, “This didn’t come from me—“ She says, her voice low, “But if you look to my left right about now you might catch the gist of it”

Chloe’s head spins around to look and sure enough, Kommissar has Aubrey backed against a wall, lips pressed to her ear. Aubrey’s eyes are shut and her hands are balled into fists, and Chloe’s jaw drops at the sight. Beca can’t help the laugh that falls through her lips.

“Come on,” She says, pressing her lips to Chloe’s cheek, “Let’s get some pictures with that trophy”

 

* * *

 

When Aubrey shows up at the hotel the next morning, hair tussled and make-up smudged, Beca dips her face lower into her bowl of cereal and pretends like she isn’t the reason the entire team is waiting upstairs with a quick-fire round of twenty questions about the 2010 Acapella national singing bowl and its relation to the hickeys on her neck.

Aubrey is going to be furious with her, but she can hear Stacie and Amy giggling from the elevator and Chloe is smiling beside her and Beca is too happy to care.

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something I worked on after seeing PP2 - thank you to my beta Georgie. If you are so inclined, come talk to me @ spemilys.tumblr.com


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